Testing the Compass

A week after I started mentoring in AltRoots, my name started popping up a lot in the group.

It wasn't because I was the smartest or the most technical.

But I was consistent.

Always around. Always answering questions — and always willing to admit when I got something wrong.

Sometimes I was a little sloppy with explanations, but I'd circle back, clarify things, make corrections.

And apparently… that mattered more than getting everything perfect on the first try.

That night, I had just gotten off work when my phone buzzed.

Telegram – AltRoots

87 new messages.

I opened the app.

And one name kept flooding the chat:

$GOLDY

"Andi, $GOLDY is flying!"

"Already mooning! Word is someone on the inside got in early!"

"Morning entry, afternoon double — easy!"

Everyone was hyped.

Messages stacked up, one after another.

But instead of excitement, my brain kicked into analysis mode.

Why's everyone shouting at once?

Is this just a regular pump, or some kind of influencer setup?

I opened the chart.

$GOLDY was up 38% — in just two hours.

Transaction volume was spiking hard.

But something about it felt off.

Too fast. Too loud. Too clean.

Like a party you walk into where everyone's already drunk —

and you realize you're the only one who doesn't know the host.

I checked out the top wallet holders.

Ten wallets are holding over 70% of the total supply.

"Damn."

Then I looked at their socials.

Their X account? Just made two weeks ago.

They've already got 20,000 followers, but all the profiles look fake—no pics, no posts, no comments. Just bots.

"$GOLDY is the next $PEPE!!! Buy now or regret it!"

I let out a long sigh.

"This project feels kinda sketchy… but I can't lie, something about it is pulling me in."

Whenever I'm not busy working on the group project, I end up scrolling Twitter.

One of the big Indonesian crypto influencers just tweeted:

"Heard from someone on the inside: $GOLDY's getting listed on Bitrue!

Kinda torn on this one. DYOR, bro."

The replies were packed:

"In bro!" "All in!" "Let's gooo!"

I didn't say anything.

But low-key, I wanted in.

Not 'cause I was sure.

Just… FOMO.

I'm tired of being the last one in line.

"If it really tripled overnight, I could finally get a new laptop, stash some savings, maybe even help out Mom sooner."

But then again…

"What if it tanks? That money's gone."

I opened up AltLounge.

Figured I'd drop a quick first take.

AndiLurker:

Hey, good to see y'all. Just wanted to get your take on this token called $GOLDY.

A bunch of people on AltRoots are hyped outta their minds, but I'm seeing a lot of red flags.

Maybe I'm wrong—would love your thoughts before things get out of hand.

Includes:

Take a look at the chart — see any crazy spikes or sketchy trading volume?

We're handing out wallets.

Got some fake social media screenshots to go through.

VoidByte:

You're not wrong. This isn't really an investment — it's more like a hype train that's been planned out.

If you're in, you're not just learning anymore. You're playing with fire now.

Raka_ETH:

If you already know the red flags, the real question isn't "Can I make money?"

It's more like: "Am I okay dragging other people into a pit I know is deep?"

That last line hit different.

"If I follow, and people in AltRoots follow because they see me do it...

then I'm part of the problem."

Journal Day 37

Sometimes, it's obvious what's gonna make a profit.

But the real question is: what's it gonna cost you morally?

Today, I didn't lose money — and more importantly, I didn't lose my compass.

I got to the restaurant a little early that morning. The Jakarta sky was still damp from last night's rain, and the kitchen wasn't as hot as it usually gets. But my chest was burning.

And it wasn't the fried food or the oil — it was the chaos in the AltRoots group from the night before.

One of the members, someone going by RizkyCrypto, dropped a screenshot showing he had just logged into $GOLDY with 80% of his wallet.

He said, "I'm late, but I feel good. And Bang Andi mentioned it too."

Man, I just sat there staring at the screen.

I only ever post analysis. I never told anyone to jump in.

But somehow my name got used as a signal.

And if $GOLDY tanks...

I know exactly who they'll blame.

I'm not scared of losing money.

I'm scared of letting down people who thought I had all the answers.

Around 11 a.m., Bagus — a friend from the restaurant — sat down next to me with a glass of sweet tea in hand.

"Di, you in on GOLDY too?"

I shook my head.

"Nope. There were just… too many sketchy things about that project."

Bagus laughed a little.

"Bro, you overthink everything. My buddy turned a hundred K into two million last night. Crazy, right?"

I didn't say a word.

"You're being way too serious, Di. The market doesn't care if you've got morals. What matters is making money."

I stared down at the wooden table between us.

Maybe Bagus wasn't wrong.

But that's not how I roll.

That's not the kind of Andi I wanna be.

I don't wanna win in a way that makes me hate myself later.

That afternoon, I opened AltRoots.

Total chaos.

People were panicking. $GOLDY was tanking — fast.

Someone typed:

"What's going on? It just keeps crashing even though the volume was insane last night."

And then I saw it.

A message with my name in it.

"Hey Andy, is this still safe? I just jumped in this morning."

My hands were shaking as I typed.

AndiLurker:

Just wanna start by saying sorry for even mentioning this project in an analysis thread.

I never told anyone to jump in, but I understand why some of you saw it that way.

For now, take a breath. Don't panic sell. But also — don't add more to your position.

I'll go over the analysis again with you tonight. Just chill for a bit.

Then I followed up with one more message.

AndiLurker:

If you joined because you trusted me, I promise — this won't be the end.

We're gonna treat this as a lesson, not a failure. We'll learn from it, together.

Some replies came in right away.

CryptoNewbie19:

Thanks, Andi. I screwed up. I see it now.

Others said things like:

"I know Andi's right. I just got hit by FOMO."

This heart feels tight, but also a little relieved. Maybe they were disappointed. But they still want to listen. I'm the one responsible for that.

That night, I ended up spending more time on my laptop than usual.

I reopened all the $GOLDY data. I double-checked the volume, whale wallet, token distribution path, and DEX data.

All the data supported the same conclusion.

This was a project built to be temporary. But for a moment. It's like fireworks. They're gorgeous, but they don't last long.

A lot of people get hurt because they try to hold on too tightly.

I wrote a long paragraph to wrap up my analysis that night.

AndiLurker:

GOLDY is a reminder that not everything that goes up is good.

Sometimes, it goes up because it's built on fear and greed.

We've all been tempted. I'm with you.

But every time we hold back from making impulsive decisions, we're actually building character.

That character's going to be our saving grace and prevent even bigger losses down the road.

I'll send it to you. Then, just shut down the laptop.

My head is spinning. But I felt pretty calm.

I strolled over to the window of the rented house. The night is still quiet. But I no longer felt alone.

I was working on a project.

Something you can't count in USDT. But I had a feeling in my heart.

At 11:00 p.m., I was still wide awake. It wasn't the coffee, though. My mind was just too full.

Tonight, I didn't do any charts. I didn't watch any technical analysis videos. I couldn't open Dexscreener.

I just sat there, staring at a blank screen.

Rewriting the same sentences I already knew the answers to.

"Why didn't I go in on GOLDY?"

"Why didn't I take the quick win?"

"Why did I even bother helping people deal with their FOMO?"

I knew the answers.

But I needed to hear them from me.

Out loud. In writing. Just… real.

I opened my private digital journal and typed:

"I want to sleep at night without guilt."

"I want my mom to be proud of how I live — not just that I send money."

"I want people to remember me as someone they could trust. Not just someone who made a quick buck."

Then my Telegram lit up.

A DM.

CryptoGhost.

"Andi. You made a hard call. But it was the right one.

The community needs more people like you."

I read it slowly.

"I was tempted, too. Honestly.

But when I think about people in AltRoots losing money because of something I said…

That hurts way more than losing cash."

Then another message came right after:

"That means you're not just a trader anymore.

You're a leader.

If you're ready, I'd like to give you a presentation room next week. At AltLounge."

I paused.

My heart skipped a beat.

"What's the topic?"

"Picking the right project. Title's up to you.

But there's one condition: you've gotta keep it real."

I stared at the screen for a few seconds.

Then typed:

"I'm in."

He replied with just one word:

"Good."

I shut my laptop and started tidying up the scattered papers on my desk.

Then I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror.

Same reflection as always:

Skinny frame, eyes a little tired, hair kind of a mess.

But something felt different.

Before, it was all about chasing profits.

Now... I'm looking for something else.

Direction. Purpose.

I don't want to be part of the noise anymore — I want to help make sense of it.

I know I won't always get it right.

But I can always choose to be honest.

And in this messy, fast-moving world of crypto, being honest might actually be the most rebellious thing you can do.

I took a deep breath, then flipped to the last page of my journal and wrote one sentence in big letters:

"I'm not gonna be a hype guide. I'll be a trust sifter."

The next day, I headed back to the restaurant, just taking things slow.

Then someone tapped me on the shoulder.

It was Bagus — the same guy who'd joked about GOLDY yesterday.

"Hey Di, turns out you were right," he said. "That token? It's basically worthless now. My friend lost a million."

I nodded, slow and quiet.

"You didn't get in, right?"

"No."

He looked at me sideways.

"Why not?"

I looked at her for a moment, then answered while casually stirring my tea.

"Because my compass's pointing the other way."

She laughed — not in a mean way, just kind of surprised.

"You're weird… but in a cool way."

I smiled.

While most people were out there chasing the noise —

Trying to figure out where to go based on whatever the crowd was screaming —

I finally chose to listen to something else.

My gut.

And for once, that voice?

It came through loud and clear last night.